


Getting Down To The Bottom Line

by Traw



Category: Emergency! (TV 1972)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:54:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26809963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traw/pseuds/Traw
Summary: I'm moving - running- before I even realize it, running towards him as he falls back against the ground, clutching his chest after Vince fired his gun. Sliding in the thick, burgundy puddle pooling around him, I grab him under the arms and use the momentum of my slide to get us both to safety between the ambulance and the squad as Vince's partner tackles him, crashing him violently to the ground. *An Alternate 'What If' missing moment to the  episode 'The Bottom Line'. Idea taken from a 'What If' suggestion from Johnny's Owies from the KMG fan fiction site.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	Getting Down To The Bottom Line

I'm moving - running- before I even realize it, running towards him as he falls back against the ground, clutching his chest after Vince fired his gun. Sliding in the thick, burgundy puddle pooling around him, I grab him under the arms and use the momentum of my slide to get us both to safety between the ambulance and the squad as Vince's partner tackles him, crashing him violently to the ground.

Ignoring Vince’s shouted rantings as he struggles to regain control of the gun going on behind me, I gently lay Johnny down on the hard bitumen before tearing the bloodied blue shirt open.

There is so much blood covering his chest it is, at first, impossible for me to find the wound. I grab the hanky out of my pocket and quickly wipe away the gore to expose the small bullet hole in his chest. The blood loss is great but not so much to cause the pool of blood that is quickly surrounding us, soaking the ground and my pants legs as I lean over him.

My chest tightens as I realize what this must mean and I mumble an apology, warning him of what I must do. He closes his eyes and nods, biting down on his bottom lip as he somehow endures the agony of being moved.

I roll him as gently as I can, cringing when I hear him cry out as pulling up his blood-drenched coat and shirt in the same movement. The exit wound is large and ragged, much larger than I have ever seen before. I freeze, momentarily shocked and terrified at the sight, my hand hovering just above the wound as my mind tries desperately to remember what I need to do.

"That…bad?" The weak, breathless spoken question breaks through my shock and I look down at the face that I have come to know so well.

I force a smile as I press my hands against the wounds, trying to not show him my true emotions as I swallow back the sob that is sitting in my throat as he cries out again and pulls away. I shake my head and force myself to speak, trying desperately to keep my voice from breaking as I realize that the yelling and the struggle just feet away has ceased and someone is desperately shouting our names as the sound of running feet come towards our hiding place.

"No, just a scratch. Seen worse when the kids have falls on the playground."

He grunts a reply that ends with a gasp as my hand continues to apply pressure to his wounds. I know he is trying his best to stay still just as I know how much pain I am causing. Yet I can still feel his warm blood trickling through my fingers no matter how much pressure I apply.

I search my mind for something to say, of some way to apologize for missing Vince’s symptoms, for not warning him fast enough when Vince pulled his gun and for not doing something…anything… to stop Vince from shooting him. I am his partner and he is my closest friend; I should have done something to protect him.

Now it is me who bites my lip and tries to hide my pain… my guilt.

He looks back up at me, his normally vibrant brown eyes now tired and dull. "Not your… fault…Pally. Not… Vince’s… fault... either." He whispers as his eyes slowly drift close, reading my mind even now.


End file.
